corn.jpeg

1.  One of the pleasures of summer.  Fresh corn.  Grilled, boiled, or "Mexican street style".  Yum.  (I remember back to my teenaged years when I wore braces on my teeth.  Upper and lower.  I just couldn't risk eating corn on the cob -- I would be mortified afterwards by all the bits that stuck to my wires.  It was gross.  ("Gross" was my all-purpose reaction to just about everything then.) 

It is unfortunate that one's teeth must be straightened at the exact moment one becomes commandeered by self-consciousness and self-loathing.  Oh well.

rubber bands braces.jpeg

 

Fresh corn is among the things we can appreciate now.  

  

 

2.  A good book.

 
a-sport-and-a-pastime.jpg
 

I am reading this beautifully written novel now.  I am reading it slowly, languorously, enjoying the words and the moods that James Salter wrote in 1967.  It's only 185 pages, and stopping and starting in the past week has been excruciating and wonderful.  I feel like I'm the last person in my world to have picked up this book.  Have you all read it?  Tell me what you thought.  

 
vintage hair dryers.jpeg
 

3) I don't know about you, BUT I do feel so much better after my hair has been done -- colored, blown properly, or cut.  Today was one of those days.  It doesn't matter what I'm wearing, a good hair day is like being a VIP to myself.  It's like knowing I got an A on a paper, or received a love letter in the mail.  I guess it boils down to confidence.  Look, though I'm just a baby boomer, I feel like I grew up in the Dark Ages.  I forget to wear lipstick, and I no longer wear a slip under my dresses (TMI?) but I do like my hair to be polished.  

 
Living-Proof-Blow-Out-back-curls.png
 

4.  A Secret Spot

Last weekend our dear friends Robert and Heidi told us to meet them at a magic show in front of a blue door on Canal Street in Chinatown.   I'm not a magicaholic, but I could be the person who gasps at sleight of hand tricks.  I adore Ricky Jay and Penn & Teller.  So at the precise strike of 7 bells, a person quietly opened the door to the assembled and motley group of 16 people standing outside and admitted us.  We walked down a steep flight of stairs into an old-fashioned parlor, with touches of Victoriana.  It was an immersive magic show for the 16 of us.  We followed the magician, Josh Jay, back and forth from room to room.  The intimacy was fantastic.  He was never more than a foot away from us.  The show is called "Six Impossible Things."  It was the  adventure that reminded me of the fun you can have in this city:  A private magic show.An unmarked restaurant with the best noodles.  A shop that is 8 square feet but stuffed with delights.  

joshua jay.jpg

5)  And now, a man who needs no introduction.  He's the receptacle of all my hopes and dreams --(and he's not my exhibit!)  Ladies and gentlemen, here's Robert S. Mueller!

mueller.jpg

Until next week!  It's #AperolSpriterOClock!

xLisa

 

1 Comment